No Tell Motel

Detroit—December, 2015

The Cum Hound reached out to me.  We were overdue for a meet.  He thought at first he might drive to the playroom, but it worked out to be easier for me to meet him at our usual sleazy motel in a Detroit suburb.

On the way there, I stopped to see my Dad at his assisted living facility.  There was still a glimmer of recognition as I greeted him.  We quickly slipped into a companionable silence as he now sleeps most of the day away.  I woke him in time for his early lunch and I slipped out while all his attention was switched to his grilled cheese sandwich. 

The motel was not busy.  Yet.  Plenty of parking.  I had brought the sling along.  CH helped me move the table and side chair, making room for it right by the door.  I set it up as he finished in the shower.  I ditched my clothes save for my jock and combat boots.  I watched the TIM porn on his computer.  It made my jock pouch chub nicely.

The bathroom door opened.  “I have two guys coming to load me for you.”  He mentioned a name of a man who has often played with us.  The other was a young Arab—whose cock excited the Cum Hound.  We didn’t wait for them—and a good thing, since neither showed up…

“Get up here and suck my dick.”

The Cum Hound, naked and radiating heat from the shower, crawls between my spread legs.  I push his face into my mounded jock.  He inhales deeply, sighs and begins mouthing the worn and stained fabric.  “Fuck,” he mutters, deep in the back of his throat.  I let him get my cock out—it’s beginning to hurt in the cramped pouch.  He swallows it down hungrily.

“Get it good and wet—it’s all the lube you’re getting.”

CH moans again and I pull out of his mouth. 

“Get on all fours—right by the edge.” 

He does.  I get up off the bed and kneel.  I eat his freshly showered hole.  It’s still sweet and slightly floral from the cheap soap.  I dig in.  CH groans.  I am so horned.  I need a hole.  I stand up and press in.  I slide all the way in in one stroke.  CH clutches a pillow and tells me to fuck him.

I keep a measured stroke.  Increasing it ever so slowly.  Suddenly the sound of my hips on his ass are matching the thumping of the fuck in the video.  I slow down. 

Bend. 

Taste. 

And do it all again.

This time when I pull out, I get up on the bed.  “Clean my cock,” I tell him.  I don’t have to ask twice.  He’s eager to taste his ass juices and my pre-cum.  I let him lap and swallow. 

“Sling.”

The Cum Hound is in it and ready.  He’s one of those men who can get his ankles in the stirrups by himself—and with ease.  I taste his hole again.  He’s a self luber.  His hole is slick and ready.  I stand up and line myself up.

“Fuck me, Sir.”

I move in, agonizingly slow, even to me.  I want to just bang it into his guts. But I don’t for I love watching his eyes as his ass gets fuller and fuller and…I’m home.  I grind into him.

“…So good…” he mutters.  His eyes are now closed—concentrating on the throbbing flesh in his ass chute.  I stay shoved deep and twist his nipples.  He howls and I begin fucking. 

I am keeping a steady drilling going.  He feels great.  In one movement, I pull out and start pissing.  It coats his chest.  CH opens his mouth—but the big stream that would have reached it is now reduced to covering his pubes.

I spend a long time licking it off his upturned ass.  I tongue some into his hole.  I catch the drips off his nuts.  I even suck his cock until it is piss free.  I spit his pre-cum into his hole—and add my cock.

I fuck until the chains rattle.

*****

We break.

He checks his phone and both men have at least cancelled with a note.

We watch the porn. 

I fuck him with the Hound on all fours again.

“Let’s get back in the sling.”  I know he has to either get back to work—or perhaps to his boyfriend.

I eat his hole, stroking all the time.  I really need to blow a load.  I eat and stroke so it will take no time at all.

I rise.

I enter.

Three or four strokes.

I look in his eyes again.  They tell me exactly how much he wants my load.

I erupt...

Surprises at the Motel with Day Rates

Detroit—November, 2013

I went home for Thanksgiving to the Detroit area.  I had every intention of finding some fun during my time there.  As is often the case however, being around my Alzheimer’s ridden Dad made my libido plummet.  However, the day before the holiday, the Cum Hound got me out of my funk.  I thought I was meeting him one on one at the cheapest sleazy motel we knew—but that was not quite the case…

 I haven’t seen the Cum Hound in quite some time—not since we were, unexpectedly in another state and in the same hotel.  (You can also read about the time I brought a mystery top to breed him.  Or the time we fucked while broadcasting it over TIM’s Fuck Roulette.)  I arrive a little early.  I’m eager.  I need to breed.  It’s been a whole week since I got off—much less fucked ass.  I snap a picture of the motel sign.  I like how brazen it is—letting the world know just what happens here.

Cum Hound answers my knock.  He is still in his three piece suit.  We hug. The room is tiny—all wood paneling and cheap pressed wood furniture.  The bed is clean enough and that’s all that matters.  I go in and strip down as he attaches his computer to the in-room television so we can have porn on a much bigger screen.  He puts on a Treasure Island video—one that is new to me.  He goes off to shower and clean up as I watch big dicks breed the willing. 

I am achingly erect as he emerges from the steamy bathroom.  Cum Hound crawls across the bed and nuzzles my dripping cock.  He buries it in his throat, giving a gratified sigh as he feels the thickness fill his throat.  I pump it into him, then I slowly pull out. 

“Come here.”  I get up and stand on the linoleumed area outside the bathroom door.  He obediently gets on his knees.  “On your back,” I instruct him.  He lies down.  I straddle his chest, a boot on either side of him.  My cock is slightly less hard.  A burst of piss spits out.  I direct the pale stream right at his open mouth.  He guzzles noisily.  I control the flow, willing myself to stop so he can swallow and not make much of a mess.  I let fly another stream.  And another.  The Cum Hound is rock hard—something I rarely see as he can’t stay that way with cock up his ass. 

When I finish, I pull him up to clean the last drops from my cock.

“On the bed.  All fours.”  Cum Hound is right there.  I bury my face in his ass.  I love the warmth and taste of his hole.  I need to stick my cock in him.  Now.  I get up and do just that.  I fuck him roughly.  Something he always begs me to do.

“I need this,” I tell him.

“Sir, I have a surprise for you.  I have two other tops coming to breed me like you like.”

“Really?”  The thought of fucking in cum makes me pound him harder.   There is a knock on the door.  I pull out and slap my meaty cock on the Cum Hound’s hole.  I go to answer the door.  It’s Mikey, the Breeder’s brother.  I smile and let him in.  Before Mikey can strip down and I can get back in the Cum Hound’s hole, there is second knock. Once again I open the door.  It is one of metro Detroit’s most reliable breeders.  There is nothing fancy about his fucking—he’s just there to drop a load and get back to work.  He rarely even gets all the way undressed.  Today is no different.  He takes his sweater and shirt off, but just leaves his pants bunched around his ankles.  The Cum Hound has flipped on to his back and is pressing his wet hole toward the new arrival.  Mikey finishes shucking off his clothes and sucks my cock. 

Old Reliable pushes into the wet hole. 

“You must have been fucking him for a while,” he says, his head turned in my direction. 

I nod.  And then groan as Mikey pushes me forward on the bed, deciding he’d really rather lick my ass.  His tongue goes deep and I take a hit of poppers, reveling in the unexpected.

“You are wet, boy,” Old Reliable tells the Cum Hound.  “And I’m going to make you wetter yet.”

I grab the camera.  Old Reliable convulses and shoots into the Cum Hound.  Loudly.  No one in this motel cares.  Old Reliable knows (and loves) the drill.  He marinates for a moment in the cum soaked ass, then he pulls out and lets me suck him clean.  He’s dressing as I felch a little of his load out of the Cum Hound.  “I’m leaving most of it for you,” I tell Mikey. 

Mikey grins and shoves his cock into the creamy, well–fucked hole.  I thank Old Reliable, and he is out the door and on the way back to his shop.

I watch and take a few more pictures.  Then I eat Mikey’s ass on his backstroke.  I stand up, catching Mikey’s eye in the mirror.  I push into him.

“Argh!”

Mikey fucks into Cum Hound and impales himself on me with each backstroke.  I tell the Cum Hound just what I’m doing.  It’s his turn to groan.  He is anything but a selfish bottom.  He tells Mikey to take my cock.

We fuck this way for a long time.

Eventually, I go back up Cum Hound.  Then the amazing thing happens.  He says he’s worn out.  “Let me watch you fuck Mikey.”  He lies across one side of the bed and watches Mikey get on all fours.  I can fuck with much more freedom now.  I slide in.  I have to hold still—afraid I’ll shoot.  I calm down and begin long dicking him.

Mikey rolls off me and over onto his back.  “Fuck me so I can see your eyes, Daddy Man.”  I am back up him instantly.  Our eyes lock.  Even the Cum Hound can feel the connection between us.  I lower my head into a kiss.

“Breed him,” the Cum Hound all but whispers.  “Let me see you shoot in him.”

I pull up, my eyes never leaving him.  My eyes go all watery.  And I shoot.

I collapse on Mikey.  The Cum Hound goes to clean up, leaving us alone.  I roll off Mikey.  He climbs on top of me, stroking his bright red cock.  Mikey leans in and whispers things in my ear.  I become tongue tied, my usual verbal ease taken aback.  My hand strokes his ass and he shoots across my chest. 

We stay, mashed together with his cum sticking to the both of us, until the bathroom door opens.

Then we are all business.  We wash up, pack up, get dressed and take our leave.

Mikey’s at the door of the motel.  I go to him to say goodbye.  He grabs me in an embrace.  “That was special, Daddy Man.  Take care of yourself…”

I Meet the Cum Hound on the Road.

I don’t think I have ever gone this long without making an entry.  I have not had a bunch of internet trolls upsetting me.  I have not been so busy with work I can’t find time to write.  I have simply been fucking.  A lot.  I have never had so many men stream through my playroom as I have this last eight days.  Even the one day when I had a no show, someone else volunteered to come get worked over in his place.  It’s been great.  And after several hours of fucking and fisting and pissing I have not had much desire to write about fucking and fisting and pissing.  Well, I took last night off.  So here, 36 hours later, I am back to where I left off, writing about fucking….

 

St. Louis, MO—February, 2013

I did nothing between Memphis and my next trip, a long weekend in St. Louis.  I flew in on Thursday.  I was ready to have much more fun on this jaunt.  I knew guys from previous trips.  I’d had tons of offers before I got there (though we know how those usually turn out.)  My pal Will was going to throw a fuck party for me on Sunday.  And if nothing else the bathhouse was only three Metro Link stops away from my hotel.  I never made it to The Club Baths….

 

My hotel is the nicest of any I stay in on these trips for work.  The bed looks like something out of the Arabian Nights with all the bolsters, different sized pillows, duvets and extra sheets.  The bathroom shower is made for watersports—a glass enclosed cube with a mirror that reflects you under the spray.  There is also a tub—big enough for a six footer to lie down in and be covered with a hot spray of my own.

No one is online who I’ve spoken to in the days leading up to this trip.  Except for one man.  And I know him.  It’s the man from Michigan who I’ve called the Cum Hound in these pages.  I tap out a message.  “Are you really in STL?”

“Yes.  R U?

“Yes,” I answer.  “In a hotel downtown.”

“So am I.”  He names a pricey hotel.

“So am I,” I type.  “On the third floor.”

“No way.  I’m on the fifth.”  We agree to give him time to clean up and meet in my room in two hours.

By the time we meet, we both have done what we always seem to do when we play together— we’ve found additional play mates.  I have a very young couple coming over.  He found a guy he’s fucked around with earlier in the week.

He knocks—right on time.  He looks great:  almost as tall as me with just the right amount of grey in his hair.  He grins as strips out of his clothes.  “What are the chances?”

I don’t answer.  I just get him on the bed, on all fours.  I shove my tongue deep into his hole.

“Oh, fuck, yeah. Eat my hole.”

I do.  I lube my cock up as I eat and lick.  I rise and enter him—and there is a knock on the door.  I pull out and let the young couple in.  The one I talked to looks nervous.  He’s maybe 26, with dark hair and a slight build.  His friend, a top I’ve been assured, is about the same age and is stockier with curly hair.  Everywhere.  Both strip down and the four of us take turns sucking every cock in the room.  The young top pulls off my cock, looks at it, and says “Can you really take something that big?”

“Hell, yes!”  the young bottom tells him.

I bend the Cum Hound over and go back to licking his hole.  The boys jerk, sprawled on the foot of the giant bed, their eyes glued to us.  Before long I rise and slide my dick home in one long thrust.  The Cum Hound grunts.  The boys jerk harder.  I fuck him without mercy.  Showing off.  Making my hips slap against his butt cheeks.  I finally pull out and bring my cock almost around to the Cum Hound’s mouth.  Damn.  He’s rushed his clean out.  We retire to the bathroom.  I’m back first after a hot, soapy washcloth.

“Fuck me.”  It’s the young bottom.  “Just go slow.”  He gets on all fours, assuming the same position where I’ve just fucked the Cum Hound.  I sink to my knees and lick the soft, full mounds of his hairless ass.  I haven’t had someone so young in my mouth in a long time.  He is moaning and huffing poppers.  His friend is finally hard again as he watches me swab out his friend’s hole.  I stand up.  My cock head enters his loosened pucker.  He grunts.  I stop.  I pull out and eat some more.  I rise and insert again.  He takes the head and maybe an inch of my swollen, drooling cock.  This time I stop.  I spit on his hole and lick some more, working the saliva as deep as possible.  I go back in.  Two inches this time.  Lick.  Then three.  Spit and tongue.  Four.  It takes forever, but finally I am home.  My untrimmed bush is grinding against his hairless cheeks.  And he loves it.  We fuck a long time, his friend jerking and telling us how hot it looks.

When we take a breather, he finds he hasn’t cleaned out deep enough.  We troop off to the bathroom—which the Cum Hound has just left.

I fuck the Cum Hound.    The young top tries to fuck his friend, but he can’t stay hard.  I stop when it’s obvious the Cum Hound is having one of those days—he can’t stay clean.  We clean up again.

“Fuck me.”  It’s the young top.  He’s sprawled on his back.  The young bottom kneels behind his head and holds the top’s legs high in the air.  I eat his hole, relishing the tight curls of dark hair.  I slather on more lube than usual and work my cock in.

“Jesus, man.” 

I am not up him for long before he begs me to pull it out.  I stay up him for several more thrusts before I relent and pull out.  Three guesses…..and we head to the bathroom. 

I try to fuck the Cum Hound one more time.  We look at the sheet.  He calls a halt for the night as we wash up.  Now we are glad his fuck bud has never shown up.

I fuck the young bottom one more time.  I get into him much easier.  His friend once again tells us how hot we look.  I am on the verge of cumming when he tells me he can’t take anymore.  I think for a second he’s going to be bred anyway, but he pulls away from me, crawling across the bed. 

It looks like we are done.  The Cum Hound doesn’t dare chance another round.  I’ve ruined the young bottom’s hole.  The young top can’t really take me.

We call it a night.

As soon as they are all gone, I restart the porn that has been playing on my lap top.  Rod Painter conjures the cum out of my cock the moment someone pisses into his eager mouth...

Alone with Cum Hound--and a world-wide audience

Lansing—October, 2012

I have known the Cum Hound for a long time, yet we have never met for a one on one.  He loves to get fucked.  He loves cum.  He loves taking loads for me to felch.  We meet up every few months.  We usually meet at a truly sleazy motel in the Detroit area, and I would be one of a number of guys there to fuck him.  We  meet in different cities, at times, to get different dick up his hole.  Even when he came all the way out to my playroom, I recruited the one lone top in my tiny town to give him a load for us to play in.  We had talked about the fact that it was time to meet on our own—but then I arranged a mystery top to come in and fuck him once he was blindfolded. 

This time I had no tricks up my sleeve.  We’d fuck alone.  He wanted some pushing of his limits of pain.  I’d set up the sling and rimseat in a cheaper motel in Lansing.  Our added spice was that we decided to broadcast it on TIM’s Fuck Roulette.

 

“Get on the floor.”  I point to under the rimseat. Cum Hound eagerly gets under the open seat.  He loves to rim me.  I sit.  The camera on his laptop picks me up perfectly framed.  His tongue connects with my ass.  I watch my cock go from semi-hard to fully erect.  I let it bounce, as I remove the poppers in the waistband of my jock.  I take a deep hit.  He grunts as he works deeper.  An image of a young man stroking appears on the ‘who’s watching’ screen.  He sees a toilet seat, and quickly clicks away from us.  I’m luxuriating in just sitting and being serviced as I stroke.  We pause at least once for him to take a hit.  Then I sit again for his more frenzied rimming of my now wet hole.  I look over at the screen.  A handsome Black man is watching us.  He eventually clicks away—and I get up.

“It’s sling time.”  I get him over to it—after we re-position the laptop on the bed to catch the business end of the sling.  It’s positioned so I can see my cock slap on his ass.  I dip and rim him, but his tongue has gotten me more than ready to fuck. 

I shove in.  He grunts a “Yes” and I am in to the hilt.  My balls slap his ass.  “Fuck me, Sir.”  I pull almost all the way out. And slam in again. I fuck faster.  There is an older leatherish-looking man watching us now---his cock looks huge, it’s so close to his camera.  He is pulling his foreskin over the head of his cock and slowly working it back down--making a show of it for us.  I pause, taste the Cum Hound’s ass and then push my cock right back in.  I hear the man on the screen grunt—when I look over, he’s gone.

I work the Cum Hound’s nuts.  Much in the same way as I detailed in Pain Pig.   He howls, every bit as loud.

I bring out some toys.  The first one in his ass has a large egg as the head, then a slender shaft.  The Cum Hound gasps as the egg pushes him wide open.  He clamps down on the ribbed shaft.  I work it in slowly.  I pull the end of the shaft up.  Then down.  Then from side to side.  CH is moaning.  He is loving this.  I push the base down again and add my cock alongside it.  It fits perfectly.  My cock pushes up to the base of the egg.  “Argh!”  He is stretched wide.   “Fuck me with that thing.”  I pull back, then fuck forward, running the underside of my cock over the ribs.  It feels terrific.  For both of us.  I keep it up for a long time.

We have a new man jacking as he watches us.  He’s young and hung.  And likes what he sees.  I look over—pull my cock out roughly and then work the toy out of his ass.  I show it to the camera.  I put it right back in.  I slip my cock into his hole.  And a finger along the side.  CH grunts.

When I get bored, I pull myself out, along with the toy and go for the speculum.  I don’t think he’s ever had it in him.  The stainless steel device slips in easily after all the stretching.  Then I begin the slow crank open.  The medical istrument opens laterally, covering the sides of his ass leaving the top and bottom of his canal for me to fondle.  He groans as my finger thumps against his prostrate.  He’s purring as I run my index finger down the whole length of his gaping hole.  I stand up.  I’ve cranked it open wide enough to just work my thick cock head in.  It feels terrific as the cool metal is on either side of my shaft, and his hot flesh is above and below. 

“Oh, Sir.  That’s amazing.”

I think so, too.  I’m up him for long time.  The young man online loves this—he is leaning towards his computer screen.  I pull out.  My cock feels the largest it’s been all day.  I slap it hard on his balls.  CH squeals in surprise.  I plunge back in.  “FUUUUCK,” he crows.

When I finally stop, I pull out and make him clean my cock.  ATM is expected and relished with the Cum Hound.

I blindfold him.

“I have a surprise for you.”

He shivers in anticipation.  I grab it out of my bag, and lay it on his stomach.  He hears the clink and feels the weight.  “Fuck,” he murmurs.  It’s a chain.  About 18 inches long.  One I’ve had for a while-- one that the few rough edges have been filed away..

I Crisco his hole.  And the first few links.  It goes in easily.  “It’s so heavy,” he breathes.  I keep adding links.  He takes them— all but the last two—I hold onto those. I tap his stomach.  You can hear the chain clink in his gut.

“Ready?”  Without waiting for an answer, I pull slowly.  Each link pops out of his well-used hole.  A shipyard version of balls on a string.  He’s breathing rapidly as each link pops out.  Finally, the final four links fall out of his ass—the weight of the chain pulling them out fast.  I lay the extended chain on his chest and abdomen so he can feel how much he took.

“Once more.  Please, Sir.”  I smile though he can’t see it.

They go in faster this time.  And come out faster too.

A few pictures—then:  “It’s breeding time, boy.”

“Yes, SIR.”

I’m in and pumping hard.  “Take it.”

“Give me your cum,” he mutters, half to me and half to himself.  “Shoot it.”

I convulse.

I shoot long and hard up his hole. 

As I straighten up, my white jizz drips from his hole.  I notice there is white cream all over the video watcher’s cock, too…

 



 

 



The Cum Hound Gets a Treat.

Detroit--March 2012

He wanted to meet in a sleazy motel.  It’s such a classy place that it truly posts an hourly rate on it’s marquee.  I’d agreed.  I could time it with a visit to my family on that side of the state.  In these pages, I’ve called him the Cum Hound, though I have only written about the time he cancelled on me after I’d made a cum harvest at the local bookstore.  Surprisingly, we had agreed to meet with no extra guys coming to seed him--as we usually played.  And I wasn’t bringing the remains of the frozen cum loads in the freezer--they’d never travel with the hot March temperatures.  But just before I left for the city, one of the guys who had often played with us in the past spoke to me on online.  I suggested he join us to shoot off a quick load.  He agreed and I jumped in the car…


I am running late.  Something I can’t abide.  But I found the motel, one in a long strip of low rate, short term establishments on the west side of the city proper.  I knock.  Cum Hound lets me in.  There’s enough furniture in this cramped motel room, I can’t set up the sling.  I just bring in my bag of toys and the rimseat.  He has straight porn playing off of the in-house cable--huge Black men ravishing petite women of all different races.  The latest TIM video is playing on his computer.  I do a quick set up.  Cum Hound is mid 40’s, tall, hairy, and partnered, but is allowed to play to get the things he can’t get at home.  I look at him.  He’s looking anxious.

“Rough.  That’s what you want, right?”

He nods.  “Just do anything you want to me, Sir.”

I give him a slightly crooked smile.  “You know me.  I don’t use force.  You’ll want to do what I tell you.”

He nods.

“Down.”  I point to the spot in front of me.  “Get me hard.”

I’ve stripped off my jeans, but put my boots back on.  My jock is rank.  So rank even I could barely stand it as I visited with my Dad earlier.

Cum Hound is on his knees, his face buried in the pouch.  He sighs as if I’ve just served him the most succulent supper.  His tongue is out and washing over my jock.

“Get it good and wet.  Lick my cock through the fabric.”

He is doing just that.  “Does Sir like my mouth?”

“Just lick my cock.”  I push him away from my pouch.  “Did I tell you to get my cock out yet?”

He shakes his head no.

“What?”  I ask.

“No, Sir.”

I pull him back into it.  My cock is getting very hard--stretching the fabric into grotesque shapes.  Finally I relent and let him get my cock out.  It springs free.  He takes me to the root. He gurgles happily as my cock stays deep in his throat and I press on the back of his head.

And hold it.

And hold it even more.

And at the last minute I let him come up for air.  He gasps.  And looks pleased, proud and hungry all at the same time.  I catch the long strands of spittle and smear them on his face.

“Now.”  I reach down and lift the seat of the rim chair.  “Under.”  He goes with out comment.   I let him take a hit of poppers before I put down the seat and straddle the chair.  “Eat my hole, boy.”  I sit.  Slowly.  I know just what he’s seeing.  My thin, hairy ass getting closer and closer.  I hear a small grunt of pleasure.  Then I settle down on the seat.  “Eat me.”  His tongue is all over my hole.  It’s my turn to take a hit.  Jungle Juice Platinum makes me very verbal.  I tell him what I want, how to do it, to go deeper, to be one of the few fags allowed to eat my ass.  This makes him moan and his lifeless cock drool.  He’s good at this.  I revel in something I rarely get from my boys.

But soon I need to fuck.  I haul him up, and push him to all fours on the bed.  A stinging smack with my left hand, a thwack of my hard cock on his crack.  I spit on his hole.  And enter.  Just as rough as he’s described in email after email.

“Fuck me, Sir.  Make that hole yours.”

I fuck until the sound of my hips on his upturned ass fill the room.  He is rasping for breath.  I pull out.  He’s dirty.  I bend and whisper the news in soft measured tones--telling him to go clean his hole properly.  He can’t stop apologizing, waits for me to finish at the chipped sink, then shuts the bathroom door.

There’s a knock at the front door.  I open it and get my f-bud in quietly.  I whisper to him I don’t want him to ever speak.  And to just follow my lead.  I cross to the bathroom and tell Cum Hound he is knock before he enters back into the room.

He cleans a long time.  I get some expert head.  And give some.  Eventually he knocks.  I grab my leather blindfold, walk into the bathroom and secure it.  I lead him out and get him back on all fours on the bed.

“I brought you a present.”  I motion my friend to stick his dick in his mouth.  “Suck my married friend’s cock. He’s wanted to try man sex.”  I stick my cock back up Cum Hound’s ass as he takes the huge helmet head of my friend‘s cock.  Cum Hound is in ecstasy.  I am pumping hard--forcing him to swallow more cock.  “Get it good and wet, it’s going in your ass.”  Cum Hound slobbers obediently.  “Do you want a condom--with a wife and all?”  I ask my friend--who is neither married nor has he used a condom in the last 10 years.  He grunts a no.  I lean across the back of Cum Hound and whisper in his ear.  “He’s gonna fuck you raw.”  I pull out and my friend moves around.  We get Cum Hound down a little lower.  My pal slides into him.  “How do you like the feel of man ass?  Good, right?”  I bring my cock to Cum Hound’s mouth.  “Open.  Clean your ass juice off me.”

Cum Hound can’t believe his good fortune.  I’m in his mouth, fresh from his ass and this supposedly straight man is pumping his guts.  My friend and I lean across Cum Hound and kiss.  He never knows.

But he’s dirty again.  In some frustration  I stick my cock in his dirty ass and piss.  “Hold it.”  The two tops wash--then I carefully guide Cum Hound back to the bathroom.  I remove the blindfold and tell him to knock when he’s ready.

I fuck my friend as we wait for Cum Hound.

Soon he’s ready.  I have arrived with some ankle restraints tied to either side of an 18” pipe.  I buckle the homemade spreader bar to the blindfolded Cum Hound’s ankles.  He’s on his back.  I can raise both his legs with one hand.  I slip back into his freshly cleaned hole.  “Sit on his face--I’m sure he’d like to eat straight ass.”  My f-bud does that, sealing his cheeks over Cum Hound’s face.  This is good.  It’s a totally hot fucking sight to see.

Soon we reverse.  My friend fucks as I sit on Cum Hound’s face and hold the spreader bar for him.

Then we reverse again.  I fuck Cum Hound hard.  Then get one more idea.  I gesture for my pal to stay seated on his face.  I let Cum Hound’s legs relax.

“Stay there.”  Cum Hound doesn’t move; he even  stops licking hole.  I come around and clamber up on the bed.  I push into my f-bud’s dripping, wet hole inches above Cum Hound mouth.  “He wants to try my cock.  Lick it as it goes up his ass.”

Cum Hound all but shoots right there.  His tongue is all over the underside of my cock as I plow into my friend.  Soon I’m close.  I get up and slip back into Cum Hound. “Take my load.  Fuckin’ take my load.”

And he does.  Noisily.  As noisily as I cum.

I ask if my friend wants to fuck in my load--and give him one.  He grunts something that sounds negative.  And tells me, after I’ve gotten Cum Hound to the bathroom and locked away, that he has another trick to go fuck.  I thank him and get him out the door before I let Cum Hound out of the bathroom.

“Sir, that was so hot.  Are you ever going to tell me who he was?”

I simply shake my head “no.”